


a tower of leaves

by retorica



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Asphyxiation, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Choking, Eros and Thanatos, Light Angst, M/M, slow & erotic asphyxiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 20:59:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14269410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retorica/pseuds/retorica
Summary: He burrows his thumb into the hidden cartilages under the skin. The neck is so fragile; a tower of leaves. Steve’s lips part in a shallow gasp.





	a tower of leaves

**Author's Note:**

> I would place this around Captain America: Civil War, but I think it works outside of a time-frame too. It's definitely post-Winter Soldier.

The first time metal touches flesh, the union is uneasy.

The body is not designed for invasions, so it takes time for Steve’s reflexes to quiet as Bucky’s metal fingers wrap around his throat.

 _This is not like last time._ This is not violence. They are not fighting.

He is not afraid of his old friend; he couldn’t be, even if Bucky were still under Hydra’s thrall. But he is afraid _for_   him, afraid that these spurious contacts between them will spook him.

Steve worries that violence may occur, by accident. After all, an excess of passion is often the source of all trouble.

This is a timed dance; Bucky’s wintry fingers holding his throat like a fragile stem. Steve doesn’t move, doesn’t swallow. He allows his friend a few moments of reflection.

Bucky runs his thumb against Steve’s pulse.  He feels its steady rise - like an agonized bird trapped in Roger’s throat. Bucky could choke him, could force the bird out.

Their eyes intersect, signaling to each other vastly different things.

Trust from one, doubt from the other.

His grip becomes more precise, narrowing in on something beyond the flesh in front of him. As if he were trying to grasp something immaterial.

He burrows his thumb into the hidden cartilages under the skin. The neck is so fragile; a tower of leaves. Steve’s lips part in a shallow gasp.

He does not resist.

The air is thick with airlessness. Bucky finds he cannot breathe either. He studies his friend’s face, the pallor, the struggle to keep still, the endless _trust_.

He eases his grip, allowing Steve to inhale quickly, before he clinches the metal around him again.

The effort is so small, so terrible and so beautiful.

Steve’s hands dig into his knees, a pilgrim mortifying himself. His eyes darken with a strange, unnamed desire.

Bucky pauses. He feels it too. 

A lust for death, but a lust for companionable death - they must die together, in each other's arms, their lips pressed against each other's throats, as it was meant to be. 

They are too old for this new age anyway. 

Steve makes him a silent, unwavering promise. _When the time comes..._

Oxygen floods his lungs like claws. He makes sure not to gulp it in too quickly. His head feels light. The sensation is overwhelming. 

Bucky’s hand does not retreat. His thumb presses against Steve’s chin, forcing his mouth wide open.

And then the same thumb is in his mouth.

A slow invasion.

Steve feels the chills of the past on his tongue. He wraps his lips around Bucky’s finger, almost unconsciously, and tastes the layers of titanium around the knuckle.

Bucky groans – not in satisfaction or release. More in confirmation of the gap, the senseless gap between flesh and machine.

He wants to pull away.

Steve raises his hand tentatively. He wraps it around Bucky’s alloy wrist. Keeps him in place.

They both need this to continue, they must submit to it, the lust for death.

Bucky closes his eyes and cups Steve’s jaw, letting a part of him – the worst part of him – be swollen.

 

 

 

As their entwined bodies chase fragile pleasure together, Steve begs him in a choked whisper, "Take me there..."

And Bucky understands.

He wraps his metal fingers around his throat, releasing the captured bird. 

The thrusts become more erratic as his pulse dwindles to an echo. 

They are both silent as they come, shaking in each other's arms. 


End file.
